Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Time passed quickly.
Just as Ko Yoon-seok had said, there was no time to be distracted.
“Lately, the U.S. entertainment sector is on the rise. They’re trying to combine it with AI to produce movies and dramas. I’d suggest investing more there.”
“Do so.”
“And it would be wise to acquire another gold mine in Congo. Prices have dipped recently, but gold will continue to rise. We plan to make an aggressive investment ahead of time.”
“Proceed.”
Occasionally, Ko Yoon-seok sought approval on matters involving rare earths, gold mines, or business operations, and Jung Jin-woo would approve them according to the lawyer’s guidance. After all, he was both a lawyer and vice president of JW Corporation.
Graduation day arrived.
As expected, Oh Se-eun didn’t come. Well, they had promised two years, and only a year and a half had passed. He hadn’t forgotten her for even a moment, but perhaps she was already living a new life.
Jung Jin-woo, now thirty, posed for photos with Ko Yoon-seok holding a bouquet like a father and son, and the ceremony ended.
He had so many things he wanted to do, but he didn’t know where to start. Most of his classmates from Se-Yeon University had already entered large corporations or public institutions.
“Chairman… what are your plans going forward?”
“Well… why do you suddenly call me Chairman?”
“You are the chairman, aren’t you? Until now, we called you Jung Jin-woo since you were still a student.”
“That may be, but…”
Though he possessed immeasurable wealth, there were still complications. Most of the companies operated fine without him. The leadership in each country might not even know he was the actual head. His father, Jeong In-seok, had structured it that way.
Just like the Rothschilds, where the real owner is kept secret to avoid attacks, the true owner’s identity was hidden.
Jung Jin-woo only needed to give broad directions—or even just nod at Ko Yoon-seok’s plans—and the businesses ran smoothly, wealth multiplying in real time. JW Corporation was designed to appear as a collective management system, keeping Jung Jin-woo’s identity concealed.
“If you don’t have a specific place in mind… perhaps you could work at a subsidiary of a subsidiary of JW Corporation?”
“A subsidiary of a subsidiary?”
“JW is enormous. It has twelve subsidiaries alone. If a direct subsidiary is inconvenient, there are over fifty sub-subsidiaries. You can pick a suitable one without burden.”
It sounded interesting. Handling smaller operations while observing the market seemed reasonable.
“Do you think there’s a suitable place?”
“What field are you interested in?”
“Hmm… I used to work in trade…”
He recalled his time at SG Global, struggling to avoid being labeled the incompetent son of a CEO. That was three years ago.
“Would you like trade? It’s in decline now… probably not much fun.”
The world had gone global. Market data from other countries was available online, which had crushed small trading companies and many export specialists. SG Global had dealt in specialty fabrics, synthetic plastics, and jewelry—areas inaccessible to the general public.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Take your time. If you don’t want JW subsidiaries, let me know any company you wish to join. You can enter any firm you desire.”
“Any company?”
“Yes.”
That actually made things more confusing. He needed a company he genuinely wanted to join. Companies like Saengsong or AMG would only make him suffer.
“Alright. For now, I’ll stay at the small house and consider my options.”
Being in a huge house only scattered his thoughts. Everyone had a comfortable space size.
The small house his father had felt cozy in. The neighborhood had once been middle-class but had grown upscale. His father had preserved the family home as much as possible. For some reason, Jung Jin-woo felt calm there too.
“Uh… about my mother…”
Ko Yoon-seok raised his eyebrows.
“I’m afraid I can’t comment carelessly on that.”
“You know who she is, don’t you?”
“…Yes.”
“Your father resented her a lot. But later, when he realized her decisions had saved him, he stopped searching. He always felt heartache, though.”
“But… so much time has passed. I lost him a week after meeting him. Perhaps my mother might want to see me…”
Ko Yoon-seok nodded silently, understanding.
“We’ll try to contact her carefully. But if she doesn’t wish it… forget it.”
“Agreed.”
Regardless of her current life, if she didn’t want contact, there must be a reason. She had lost both her partner and child once, then had to marry another man to protect the first. His judgment had to respect that.
Becoming an incalculably wealthy man, inheriting such wealth—it should have been the happiest thing. For someone who had once lived in a small boarding room, the value of that wealth was painfully clear.
Yet… he felt aimless.
Without the struggle to survive, he now had leisure, but it felt hollow.
Money poured in every day, beyond measure. Just in Korea, tens to hundreds of millions daily. One gold mine yielded tens of millions per day. Globally, he had an inconceivable fortune—equivalent to a developing country’s annual budget every month.
10–20% of the money went to the welfare and infrastructure of those countries. Governments would never allow foreign companies to take all profits.
And he didn’t need to micromanage. Most issues were handled through Ko Yoon-seok. For new business, he occasionally instructed directly via online channels. Otherwise, he could choose what to handle.
This isn’t the way to live.
Lying on the floor of the small house, he realized it. The lessons learned while preparing for and attending Se-Yeon University.
He could just live off his father’s fortune, but that wasn’t the life Jeong In-seok wanted. Jung Jin-woo felt it too.
If he wasted life indulgently, how would it differ from before? Only the presence or absence of money. Just like until age twenty-seven, living passively with whatever came his way. That life now felt repulsive.
Starting a company? He had no prior experience running a real business.
Although he now commanded massive enterprises, alone it would be impossible. If he worked, he wanted to do something that could change the world. His father’s shadow was both a stepping stone and an invisible cage, keeping him from moving beyond it.
I’ll join a company.
Graduating from a four-year prestigious university, with three years at SG Global… he could enter almost anywhere.
Not too small, not a huge corporation. Just a company small enough to understand the whole business at a glance. A rising mid-sized company seemed perfect.
Investment or M&A firms were possible, but working there while handling management posed risks of insider trading. M&A firms were laughably small.
Not in a rush, but he was thirty. Few SMEs would want a thirty-year-old rookie. He needed to decide soon.
As he sat on the sofa, the news on TV caught his attention:
[“Kiseong IT, a pioneer of the IT industry, is on the brink of bankruptcy, failing to repay a 7.2 billion won note due tomorrow. Kiseong IT was a leading company of the IT boom…”]
Kiseong IT! A thirty-year-old first-generation IT company, trading with JW Corporation’s subsidiaries. Once shining like a star, now uncertain. He had even played games they developed as a child.
“K… Kiseong IT is failing?”
“Ha ha, don’t worry. It won’t fail.”
“What? Why?”
“We own half the shares.”
“…What?”
They had moved into IT too?
“As you know, security is crucial. We needed a company for digitization while maintaining secrecy, and Kiseong IT fit the bill. It’s a dying company, and few care about it now.”
I see…
Jung Jin-woo’s eyes sparkled.
A collapsing IT company, Kiseong IT. Once over 200 employees, developing ERP, EDI, websites, government programs… now barely 30 staff making small websites. Once nearing IPO, it had consistently lost money year after year, unable to close.
“You worked three years at SG Global and just graduated. Thirty years old, right?”
“Yes.”
He had no choice but to list his SG Global experience on the resume. Later, he could embellish it if needed.
“Your relation to JW Corporation?”
“JW? Not really…”
Kiseong IT’s CEO, Choi Tae-min, whispered to his director.
“Recommended by JW?”
“Yes, asking about a business planning role.”
“So someone at JW called?”
“Apparently the secretary did, not the CEO or director.”
Jung Jin-woo lowered his gaze. They were embarrassing themselves in front of him.
“Anyway, the business planning role is vacant.”
“You mean Team Leader Yoon?”
“He left two weeks ago. Did you forget?”
Choi Tae-min’s face showed shock.
“They didn’t tell me? The team leader just left without notice? What about Deputy Lee Gi-seok?”
“He left last week too.”
“What? These idiots… then the designated junior?”
“If we don’t hire new staff, they quit. Good. Hiring a new recruit for business planning secures the junior.”
Jung Jin-woo felt ridiculous. A comedy in front of the interviewee. Why were all the senior staff leaving?
“Hum! Hum! Hum!”
To shift the mood, Choi Tae-min cleared his throat.
“You might have overheard… everyone here works hard on the ground. I just returned from a week-long provincial trip, so…”
Ah… Jung Jin-woo nodded, understanding.
“What’s your desired salary?”
At SG Global, he had earned 3.2 million won after tax per month—over 40 million annually.
But… should he join this company? The team leader and deputy left, the CEO didn’t even notice, returning after a week? This wasn’t ordinary; it was the bottom.
The air felt precarious—a typical failing company. CEO running around frantically, employees leaving without vision. If there’s no treasure here, why bother coming at all?